Why having a birthday in October sucks:

• Because it is outside of the footy season, people forget about it.
• The weather is either shitty, crap, or shitty crap. Too hot, too cold, too bloody hard to plan anything.
• Because Christmas presents are already in stores, people think it is ok to combine your presents. Piss off, that shit doesn’t happen for another 12 to 8 weeks.

Good things:

• Miss Piggy isn’t the only one born on October 13, 1974.

Writing this blog post will most likely see a letter arrive from my ex’s lawyer. A lawyer paid for by us tax payers.

Now before you scream out “Bad Parent”, I haven’t seen my kids since August 2004. When I say seen, I mean spent any kind of time with them, apart from a 5 minute supervised time at the Family Court, where my ex brain washed my kids to say nothing, and to hate me as much as possible, or there would be hell to pay.

So here is what I know about my kids:

• Last time I saw them, one was 7 the other 5. They are now 13 and 11.
• The younger one has high functioning autism, but knowing my ex, it is more likely Aspergers Syndrome, but the ex doctor shopped and crapped on to get it upgraded so more benefit money could be claimed.
• My eldest is now in high school. Which school I don’t know, I think I might know, but unless I stalked the school, I really wouldn’t know. Sure I am meant to get the school reports, that’s part of the court orders, but it doesn’t happen.
• I can’t think of anything else I know about my own children.

Gee, I really make a bad parent. Must be all the drugs I do. Umm, no that’s not it, I don’t do any, can’t do any with the job I have, nor would I do any. Oh, I know, it is my criminal record. Umm, no that’s not it either. Only record I have is a couple of speeding fines (naughty me doing 103km/h in a 100km/h zone). Oh, I know, it is my violent nature. Hang on, I’m a pacifist, so no chance of me hitting any one. In fact I have been hit a few times over the years and never hit back, I’ve just laughed at the assailant.

Hang on, I’ve got it. It’s because I married a worthless piece of shit, who would rather cry poor than work an honest day in their life. Who sees children as nothing more than a way to make money. By denying any kind of access, I pay more in child support (not sure how with 9 cents left in my bank account, and massive amounts of debt hanging over my head), which increases the emotional harm to my children and to myself.

I know, the simple way is to go back to the courts. Well I can’t afford that. I can’t afford a lawyer, so I do my own legal work (against a barrister paid for by the tax payers), nor can I afford the court costs. Besides, I spent five years going through the system, and all it got me was a massive debt that is still years away from being paid off. Why would I add to that, just to have more court orders ignored.

No, the most logical way to go about this is to have open dialogue between the two parents. Something the ex refuses to do. Obviously I have an issue if I am open to communication. After all, I only disagree with my ex on one thing, my children. So come on, give me a call.

Gee, I really am vindictive and mean aren’t I.

Well ex. as much as I could have provided a lot of details about you and my children, like names and more sensitive details, you will notice I haven’t. So before you go of screaming foul to your lawyer, demanding more money from me, threatening me, oh please threaten me with court action, I would love to see you there to get smacked down by a judge again. But before that even, try doing a little bit of reading on the damage you are doing to the children. Here’s somewhere you can start, and also link into here too.

I’m sure I will hear from my kids when they turn 18, and you kick them out because they are no longer a cash cow for you, but how about growing up and realising the damage you are doing before it is too late. Get real, face up to reality, and try standing on your own two feet for once, instead of ripping off other people and sucking the well dry of government hand outs.

So I was kicking back on the net, and I found an old blog of mine, that I stopped writing in 2006. Going back through the posts, I can see I am just as weird as I always was, but now with 30% less sugar.

Part of the blog was an old “100 things about me” list, so I thought I would see how things have changed since then. This is an abridged version, cutting out all the useless crap.

1. My favourite animal is the Yabby. Yep, still is.

3. After playing (hockey) for twenty years, I managed to only score 4 times. I played a lot since then, and got my goal tally closer to twenty now.

4. I Am Not Religious. But I do call myself agnostic not an atheist these days, thanks to clarifying my beliefs.

5. I’ve been married, and wont do it again. That wont change.

7. I am a morning person, 7am is a sleep in for me. It’s more like 5am these days.

8. My clothes consist of only one pair of jeans. No jeans now.

9. I have had about 40 broken bones. Now about 50, mainly fingers and a shoulder.

10. I have Dyslexia.

11. I’m left handed, but do most things right handed, because of a broken left arm when I was young.

13. I prefer my exclusive company, to the company of others. That still remains.

15. I am a master at building things with Lego. Currently building a working microwave from it. I laughed at this line so I tweeted it.

19. I love taking photos, especially of old bridges. I’ve really gotten slack at taking photos.

20. I use to bite my own toe nails. Now I just wish I could walk with out an aid.

22. I find fluro lights annoying.

23. I survived a 100km/h bus smash. Add to that now leukaemia and a lightning strike.

25. I like musicians who can play more than one instrument. While yesterday I played both the drums and a guitar, I hardly call myself a musician.

29. I’ve been on tv heaps, and no one knows it was me. A lot of people knew it was me when the lightning stuck.

31. I have two children, and I love them dearly.

34. I am allergic to mushrooms. 35. I am allergic to Aloe Vera. Add to that Pethidine, dairy and I get a rash from gold.

36. I have never tried coffee. I tried it, I wish I hadn’t. It tastes worse than it smells.

37. I want another motorbike, I miss mine. I’ve since had another bike, and sold it. Now I want another one.

38. I believe the Herald Sun only contains two truthful things, the comics and the page numbers. Sometimes they get the page numbers wrong. I still use this line, and it still gets a laugh.

39. I collect cows.

40. I don’t wear my glasses as often as I should. Now I have to wear them all the time.

49. I clean my toilet daily, if not more than that. Ok, so now it is only daily. After seeing this, I need to go clean my toilet again.

52. Peppermint Chocolate is my favourite. These days I wish I could eat chocolate.

53. I get about 300 emails a day. Down to about 200 a day now.

59. I donate plasma. Not any more since the leukaemia. I hope to go back to it in 2012.

61. I do character voices for animations. Need work, nothing for a good year now.

62. I think that James Brashaw has a sexy voice. Some things will never change.

65. I can cut people loose at the drop of a hat. Some things will never change.

66. I can eat a whole watermelon. I’m glad some things did change.

68. I hate flying, and even going to the airport. But I am thinking of getting my pilots licence at some point now.

69. I have never seen a porno. Started to see one, turned it off. Gross!

70. I can’t remember more than three numbers in a row.

71. My favourite perfume is Clinique Simply. I wish I could find my bottle of it.

76. I was bullied at school. Now I’m bullied at work.

79. I play golf right handed, but putt left handed. These days I swing either way, but still putt left handed.

81. I actually like South Australia…from a distance. Having rode across it, I like it up close now too.

85. I would drive 300km’s to my closest friends house if she needed milk, I wouldn’t do it for family. New record is 870km just to see how someone was going because they were not answering their phone.

86. The longest shift I ever did at work was 38 hours long.

87. I love test cricket, ho-hum about one day cricket, find Twenty/20 a joke. Twenty20 is fun to play, still can’t stand watching it.

91. I plan to live to 113, but I know I will be assassinated before then. Now I will be lucky to make 40 with the run I’ve had.

95. I have a fear of cars with out number plates. Add to that a fear of cut flowers now.

99. I sleep with a pillow over my head. I sleep with six pillows now.

102. I am sarcastic. It’s not sarcasim, it’s called “not bullshitting”

103. My favourite sandwich is Ham, Pineapple, Egg, Beetroot and Vegemite. Haven’t had that in years, would still go it.

Bessy Cow is pissed off, and so she should be:

My horns are burning red hot, but I wonder what the point is. It’s a well worn path, one that many parents would know; Dealing with the Child Support Agency.

Ever since my divorce, I’ve been paying child support, and I don’t have an issue with paying money to support my children, but how can I support them, when I can’t even support myself? Recently I spent 9 months being homeless, simply so I could get into a position of paying off debt, that would allow me to put a roof over my head, and to keep that head above water. Cows are not very good swimmers, so the sacrifice was made, as a short term loss for long term gain. It allowed me to be able to afford board (at a very generous rate) and gave me $20 a day to live on for all those little things life food, clothing, petrol. I’m sure you will all agree, hardly living it large, but at least I had the basics and it was better than the alternative.

Then last week, when I picked up my pay cheque, I noticed it was down, and I mean down by a lot. When you are living with every cent having to count, it’s not an easy blow to take. Looking though the breakdown, I saw that child support had been increased by 40%, an increase that would leave me short by $87.40 each week, provided I stopped having my car serviced, or pay rego on it. In other words, my outgoings are now greater than my income. Thanks to the CSA, my options are to run up a debt on a credit card, stop eating, or to move back to homelessness. Not really good choices to have.

So I went and saw the CSA, and was there for a couple of hours. I answered all their questions honestly, I filled in all the paperwork correctly, I did everything they asked, and still there was nothing they could do about it, because the system said I could afford it, even though the figures were quite clearly in the red, they still said I could afford it. How is that even possible?

My options now are pretty clear. I have to eat to live, I need a car to get to work to earn an income, I can use that car to live in. I tried to keep my head above water, but the CSA could see that and dumped an ocean of water on me again. Well done CSA, great work there, the system works. Once again you have managed to punish the paying parent, not just financially, but physically and mentally. How exactly does that benefit the children?

Recently I had a friend pass away. She was more than a friend, she was my family. We never kept a diary of when the next Sunday roast would happen, sometimes it would be hours between seeing each other, sometimes many months. Regardless, I loved her, and would have been happy to spend the rest of my life with her, but as “relationship” these days means “sex” to the dim witted masses out there, that obviously would never have happened.

Her problem was, she cared too much for other people, and not enough for herself, and people took advantage of that, because it made things easier for them. Never once did people take a moment to think of the cost their inactions and greed placed on her. Sure she had issues in her life, we all have issues, and she dealt with those issues, and made a better person out of herself from it. But still the ball and chain of life was dragged behind her, and it picked up a lot of debris along the way.

I could see this happening, it was basically my life too. Maybe that was the attraction, someone I could see eye to eye with, who didn’t judge, just accepted, and was happy to chip in with anything she could offer, and not expect anything in return.

Reading that previous paragraph, I can see the irony with the one before it, but I can’t change it, she was just too kind.

It’s been nearly four months since she passed away, and it really hurts still. I use to love when we caught up, and could just listen to her talk for hours, as she had such a great knowledge. While I was in awe of her greatness, she once confided in me she wish she had my strength to just keep going, that I kept her going and she was in awe of my greatness. We decided to just accept our mutual appreciation society and not get hung up on how great the other person was. We smiled.

I can’t let go. It is as simple as that, I can’t let go of her yet. Her life affected me in so many ways, so few of which I realised at the time, but now all I see are constant reminders. It’s like I am being tormented for some obscure reason, like my subconscious is telling me I have to move on, but there is nothing to move onto. It all seems so irrational and is so frustrating. I just never want to let go, simply so others can know just how great a person she was, and always will be to me and so many others. I still talk to her. Still ask her opinion. She answers every time.

This is all part of the grieving process I know, it’s a process that will never end for me. I just want to give her a hug and let her know it will be ok. To let her know that everything I did in the last few months of her life was worth it, and I would do it all again, time and time again. Just to reassure her she wasn’t putting me out at all, I wanted to be there for her, to support her, to love her. Just so she knew there was someone there for her. I’m sure she knew it already, every time she thanked me for doing anything for her, she was also questioning why someone would do anything for her. Even if I was just getting her a coffee, it filled me with a life experience.

She is still the number one priority number on my phone. Her facebook listing is always open. I carry her photos with me everywhere I go. Thanks to the tattoo on my arm, it is impossible for me to ever forget her name.

All of those things are meaningless, and I would give up the world, just for one more chance to see her smile.

le grá go deo